


maybe a little

by imsosorry



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Reunion, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1006864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsosorry/pseuds/imsosorry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are they starving you now?” Nick asks, frowning, pinching at Louis’s belly where there used to be a bit more meat.</p><p>“Don’t be a prat,” Louis says, batting his hand away. “You know they’ve got us working out, like, twice a day now. It’s a nightmare. And Haz completely banned junk food from the bus, because he’s become some new-age health maniac.” </p><p>Nick grins at the thought; Louis had fondly complained about Harry’s green-tea-drinking, yoga-doing, headband-wearing, barefoot ways ever since they started the U.S. tour. He blames Nick for turning his best friend into a “total hipster,” which is ridiculous, because Nick would never do yoga.</p><p>“Well,” Nick says thoughtfully, “S’long as your bum’s still all there.”</p><p> </p><p>(Or, Louis comes home from America. Nick's waiting.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe a little

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, this is my first ever 1D fanfic, so don't be too horribly vicious. Or do, actually. I'm a monster. This is horrible and horribly made-up and I only wrote it because the Twitter feud really got my blood going. 
> 
> This is also unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Sorry, sorry, sorry.
> 
> NOTE: During the sex scene at the end, there's consensual use of the word "slut" and slight (consensual!) slut-shaming, so if that's triggering/upsetting for you, beware.

Nick’s not totally sure when he dozed off. He imagines it was probably somewhere between the time Harry texted that they’d arrived at Heathrow and the text from Louis telling him not to, under any circumstances, doze off. 

He’s been high on energy all day, excited and jittery for his boyfriend’s return after two long months in the States. Finchy had given him a load of shit on air for it – “What’s got you all strung up, Grimmy? Did you finally find yourself a man?” – and Aimee had been less than enthused when he’d kicked her out of the flat, telling her to take the dog and stay away for at least two days. 

“Does your boyfriend know you’re planning a two-day sex marathon?” Aimee asked with a smirk.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nick had scoffed. “It’s going to be much longer than two days. You just can’t be here for the first two because we’ll want to rechristen every surface of the flat.” Aimee had put up a show of being annoyed, but eventually left with Puppy in tow, with a threatening-but-loving, “Not in the guest bedroom, Grimshaw.” 

So. It’s not that he isn’t excited for Louis’ return; it’s simply that he’s exhausted. Though there’d be no traffic as it was nearing midnight, and Nick doesn't live that far from Heathrow, he knew Louis would still be several hours. They’d have to face paparazzi, take photos with fans, make a huge deal about how lovely it was to be back in the UK, answer questions about their upcoming tour – and then Lou would have to take three decoy cars so no one would catch him arriving at Nick’s. 

That’s why it is perfectly reasonable for him to have fallen asleep on the couch while an old episode of Downton Abbey plays in the background. He is completely content, tucked up under the blanket that – though he wouldn’t admit it at gunpoint – he sleeps with most nights because it’s retained Lou’s smell. 

And then came Louis. 

Nick sleeps like the dead, so he isn’t jostled when Louis opens the front door (using the key he’d had since he’d stolen it two months into dating each other) but he is jostled when a solid weight lands on his stomach and chest, completely knocking the breath out of him. He scrambles for a good ten seconds, making a startled sort of snuffly sound, before his eyes focus on Louis, smiling beatifically down from where his bony elbows are digging into Nick’s chest. 

“Oi! Couldn’t you have just said hello?” Nick grumbles, but right away his hands go to Louis’s waist, gentle but firm, like he doesn’t plan on letting go for a good while. And he doesn’t.

“I told you not to fall asleep,” Louis says petulantly, and even like that, even using his brattiest tone, Nick is so fucking gone. 

He looks so good. His fringe is down; the way Nick prefers it, all soft and feathery. He’s wearing a beanie and sweatpants, and a T-shirt that Nick recognizes as his own. His skin is even more golden than usual, tan from the week and a half they’d spent in L.A. He’s lost weight. 

“Are they starving you now?” Nick asks, frowning, pinching at Louis’s belly where there used to be a bit more meat.

“Don’t be a prat,” Louis says, batting his hand away. “You know they’ve got us working out, like, twice a day now. It’s a nightmare. And Haz completely banned junk food from the bus, because he’s become some new-age health maniac.” 

Nick grins at the thought; Louis had fondly complained about Harry’s green-tea-drinking, yoga-doing, headband-wearing, barefoot ways ever since they started the U.S. tour. He blames Nick for turning his best friend into a “total hipster,” which is ridiculous, because Nick would never do yoga.

“Well,” Nick says thoughtfully, “S’long as your bum’s still all there.” 

With that, he reaches a hand around and palms his boyfriend’s arse with both hands, digging in a bit. Louis lets out a bit of a moan, and it’s embarrassing really, how quickly Nick gets hard. 

“I didn’t miss you at all, arsehole,” Louis murmurs, finally, finally leaning down and connecting their lips. 

Nick returns the kiss with enthusiasm and, when they’re both out of breath, turns to hide his smirk into Louis’ neck. “Missed your arsehole,” he says, earning a slap to the head. 

“Bedroom?” Louis asks anyway, tilting his head up to give Nick better access where he’s sucking into his neck. 

“Mm, a bit forward, innit?” Nick says, burying his face into the little dip between Louis’ collarbone and neck, breathing in deeply and thinking this might be his favorite spot on Lou’s body. But then he thinks about his bum, and his dick, and those little dimples at the base of his spine, and, oh right, the back of his left knee where he’s insanely sensitive, and – okay. 

“Been two months,” Louis said around a gasp. “’M so fucking horny.” 

Nick can’t help but grin at that. When they’d first started dating nearly two years ago, it had been casual and they’d both agreed that they could hook up with other people while Louis went on tour. It’s a time Nick refers to privately as Nightmare from Hell Tour. He isn’t typically a jealous guy, but he used to drown out thoughts of Louis hooking up with other guys with so much ice cream that Pixie wouldn't stop slipping him the number of her therapist for weeks. Nick had taken home exactly two men during the span of that tour and had found both so woefully inadequate that the sex had been subpar; he’d never asked how many people Louis slept with, didn’t really want to know. Before the Take Me Home tour, they’d sat down to have A Talk, and when Nick started in with a reasonable, “I don’t want us to see other people while you’re away,” Louis had simultaneously blurted out, “If you sleep with anyone else while I’m gone I’ll chop off your dick.” And that was that. 

“What, is our phone sex not enough for you?” 

Louis laughs.

They have legendarily bad phone sex. The idea is awkward to both of them for reasons they can’t quite pin down, since they’re not unfamiliar with dirty talk or kinky sex. Whatever the case, it always seems to end up with one of them doing all the talking and then getting pissy at having to carry the conversation while the other gets off, and then they bicker over it for at least thirty minutes until they’re both giggling at something completely irrelevant, boners completely lost. They’d eventually just given up, opting to download the same porn and watch it together, but even that was a little rough, since Louis felt the need to keep a running commentary – “Oh god, oh my god, is he going to put his whole fist in?” or “Logistically, I still don’t really understand how double penetration is possible” – which was adorable but not exactly sexy. Nick found he got off best in the shower simply thinking about Lou, which, whatever. He doesn’t have to tell anyone that. 

“I’ll take care of you, baby,” Nick says exaggeratingly, making Louis snort. He lifts Louis from the couch and the other boy immediately wraps his legs around Nick’s waist as he’s carried into the bedroom. 

“Love it when you manhandle me,” he says, and it’s kind of a joke but kind of not.

“’S’not hard to, since you’re so tiny,” Nick grins, knowing Louis will protest. 

“I’m not tiny,” Louis says. “You’re just gigantic.” 

“You love that I’m gigantic,” Nick says, and when they finally reach his bedroom he tosses Louis onto the bed gently. The other boy immediately spreads his legs, and his blue eyes get a touch darker as he pats the spot next to him. 

Nick’s there, he’s so there, right away, gripping Louis around the waist and bringing him so close that it feels like every part of their bodies are completely aligned. He feels that if they aren’t undressed in two seconds, he will literally die, and Louis seems to share his sentiment, working on rucking up Nick’s shirt and his own simultaneously. 

“Patience, love,” Nick says with a laugh, because he may be just as desperate as Louis is but Louis is just so responsive, so obvious, and he loves that. 

“No,” Louis retorts. “None of that.” 

Both of their shirts off, they continue to writhe around the bed until Louis is straddling Nick, whose head is against the pillows. He loves Louis on top of him, bright eyes and pink cheeks and soft fringe, looking like a goddamn angel. He’s breathless with it, with love for this impossible boy. 

“Why the fuck are you wearing fucking skinny jeans, Nick, Jesus Christ,” Louis whines, and he has a point. Nick hadn’t changed out of what he’d worn to work, because he was so used to skinny jeans that they didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, feel almost like a second skin, but suddenly he’s regretting it. Lou’s already out of his sweatpants, and he’s not wearing pants, and holy hell, why isn’t Nick inside of him already? 

“Sorry, sorry,” Nick mumbles, helping Louis with his zipper. He’s already fully hard, which makes it a bit of a struggle and actually pretty painful, now that he thinks about it, and – 

“Aha!” Louis says when he finally pops the button of Nick’s jeans. He looks triumphant and it’s so _dumb_ , how happy Nick is, how he thinks nothing could ever possibly top this. 

Nick’s cock springs free, and Louis seems fully content to just get on with it, but Nick’s jeans are scrunched around his arse, and it’s sort of cutting off his circulation. 

“Lou, Lou, could you – ” he groans, having to physically pull Louis away from where he’d started mouthing at his cock. “Need to get the jeans off. Can’t – gonna chafe.” 

“Oh, for the love of god,” Louis complains, but he gets on his knees and starts peeling off Nick’s jeans anyway. “I swear, this is why hipsters don’t get laid, because their fucking jeans are so much of a _fucking_ hassle – ” 

“Hey,” Nick argues. “I’m getting laid right now.” 

“Maybe,” Louis concedes, as he tosses Nick’s jeans across the floor and crawls back up his body. “If you’ll get on with it, anyway.” 

“Lube,” Nick says, and makes a grappling arm toward the bedside table, which is really just a sign that he wants Louis to get it, and Louis does, with a long-suffering sigh. He fumbles around in the drawer for longer than Nick would have expected, and when he turns his head, he sees a shit-eating grin on his boyfriend’s face. 

“What are these?” Louis says, and throws the copies of Tiger Beat and J14 onto Nick’s chest. They both feature the boys prominently on the cover, with Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez and someone called Austin Mahone who Nick has never bothered to research. 

“Oh, piss off,” Nick says, and if his face is red then it’s purely because Louis' bum is directly on top of his crotch now, and he’s horny. “Greg got those for me, as a joke.” 

“Well why are they in the nightstand?” Louis asks, eyebrows raised, still grinning. “Are you wanking to J14?” 

“Yes,” Nick says nonchalantly. “They have this lovely poster of Zayn with a golden retriever puppy, and when I’m feeling especially – ”

“Hey!” Louis says, batting at Nick’s chest. “Don’t say that. I don’t like that.” 

And he says it playfully but Nick also knows that there’s some truth there, some insecurity that Lou keeps buried under layers and layers of his naturally sarcastic exterior. It’s ridiculous, because Lou is the most beautiful guy Nick’s ever been with, and quite possibly the most beautiful guy in the world, but he’s still so insecure about some stuff, his band mates being one of them. Nick knows they’re like family to Lou, that he’d do anything for them, that he loves them unconditionally, but one time Harry confided to Nick that Lou has a bit of an inferiority complex and tends to think of himself as the least talented, least attractive member of the band. Which is shit, as everyone around him will tell him, but Louis' stubborn like that.

“Hey,” Nick says gently, grabbing Louis' hand and pressing a long kiss to it. “If I were to wank to J14 – hypothetically, because I absolutely would never jack off to a teen magazine, as I’m sure you know – I would hypothetically be looking at page thirty-two, where they’ve got that picture of you in Australia and your bum looks obscene.” 

“Pervert,” Louis mumbles grumpily, but he’s smiling as he says it. 

“Idiot,” Nick replies, tossing the magazines onto the floor and snatching the lube from Lou’s hands. “Now, mind if we get on with this?” 

Louis is nosing into Nick’s neck as if he means to make a home there, and he murmurs, “Want it really hard. Want you to fill me up nice and good.” 

“Jesus. Okay.” 

Nick’s hands fumble as he uncaps the lube, because it’s been two full months since he’s sunk his dick into anything that isn’t his own fist, and Louis is squirming on his lap as if he’s gagging for it. 

“How do you want it, babe?” he says, to distract Louis as his fingers ghost toward his hole. He circles the tight ring of muscle and Louis' abs contract as he falls forward with a choked sound. 

“Want to ride you until I come, and then I want you to flip me over onto my hands and knees and pound into me from behind.” 

Nick’s finger still where it was making it’s way inside Louis, and he has to take a moment to catch his breath because it’s all a bit overwhelming. “I really missed you, babe.” 

Sex with them is always like this. Louis is naturally bossy and likes to be in charge, but he also knows once he’s too far gone he’ll take anything Nick gives him. So he gives instructions beforehand, and then trusts Nick to take care of him and make him feel good, loves to be bossed around and manhandled. Nick thinks it’s because he’s always so tightly wound and controlled that it must be nice to let go for once. Nick loves all the boys, he really does, but he knows that Louis tends to be the one in the group to take care of everyone, and Nick worries about who’s taking care of him when he’s away. He once snapped at Harry as if it was entirely his fault that Louis caught a cold while they were away in Belgium. 

“More,” Louis breathes, because Nick is teasing, can’t help it really, not when Louis is moaning and pushing back onto Nick’s fingers. “Please, Nick, need more.” 

“Okay, love, I’ve got you,” Nick says, using the hand that isn’t currently working its way up Lou’s arse to stroke back his sweaty fringe. 

“Missed this,” Louis whimpers. “My fingers aren’t as good as yours.” 

Nick smiles at that, loves the thought of Louis opening himself up while thinking of Nick. He’s a fucking narcissist, what can he say. 

When Nick scissors his fingers, he knows he’s hit Lou’s spot because the younger boy seizes up with a sharp cry, leaning into it and gripping onto Nick’s shoulders tightly. “Yes, yes, god, _right there_ , please,” he rambles, already so out of it. It’s easily the hottest thing Nick’s ever heard. 

“Think you’re ready for my cock, love?” Nick asks, even though he knows he isn’t, knows it’s been too long and he’s still too tight. 

“Yes, yes, please, Nick, m’ready,” Louis begs. 

And he’s not, is the thing. When they’d first started dating, Nick had worried a lot about Louis’ slightly masochistic tendencies. He liked to take Nick tight, and he liked when Nick roughed him up a bit, and he liked to be spanked. Nick had a fair share of kinks himself, so he wasn’t about to judge. It was hard, though, because Nick was so afraid of hurting Louis and Louis just didn’t seem to care. So Nick is careful still, never wanting to give Lou more than he can take. 

“Soon, darling,” he murmurs. He adds more lube to his hand and slips a third finger inside, cock twitching when Louis' walls start to clamp desperately around him. “You’re doing so good, baby, taking it so good, look so beautiful like this.” 

Louis glows under the praise and Nick had forgotten how much Louis preened under his compliments. It made him want to never stop giving them, made him want to quit his stupid radio show and join the band on tour as the professional Louis Compliment Giver. 

“Nobody gets to see you like this but me,” Nick continues, trying and failing to keep the complete awe out of his voice. “This is mine and no one else’s.” 

“Yours,” Louis pants in agreement. 

“Did you think about this, in the hotel room when you got yourself off? Did you use your fingers and think about my cock – ”

“Yes, all the time, wanted it so bad – ” Louis is nearly sobbing with it now, as Nick crooks his three fingers up and finds his prostate. “Please, please, c’mon, no more, want it now.” 

And. Well. Nick’s not one to keep a man waiting, so he removes his fingers (Louis whimpers, half protest and half relief) and quickly lubes up his cock, watching Louis grinding his hips into the bed like he’s desperate for friction. 

“What’d you say, baby? Wanna ride me?” 

Nick easily scoots around Louis on the huge bed, lying on the right side with his head resting comfortably on a mound of pillows. Louis eyes him seductively as he crawls up the bed like a fucking porn star, and Nick would laugh if he wasn’t so unbearably turned on. 

“You’re a bit of a slut for this,” he says thoughtfully as Louis gets a hand around Nick’s cock and starts to literally mount him. 

Louis flushes from his cheeks to his chest and makes a noise of approval. They’d discovered Louis likes to be dirty talked not long into their sexual relationship, and Nick would be lying if he said he didn’t have a rampant humiliation kink. He's not generally dominant in any sense of the word, but something about a needy Louis Tomlinson in his bed has always brought out the worst - or best - in him. 

When Louis gets Nick’s dick lined up with his hole, he slides onto it in one long, painful motion, bottoming out on the first thrust. Louis stops for a long moment to adjust; Nick sees fucking stars. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Nick hisses. Louis is so tight that it’s almost painful, the pleasure so acute he feels like he could die from this. And what a way to go. 

“God, you’re so fucking huge,” Louis whimpers. He’s leaned forward now, his hands gripping Nick’s shoulders so tightly they’ll leave bruises, as he sets a slow rhythm designed specifically to torture Nick. Louis knows the exact angle to thrust so that Nick nudges his prostate every time, and he clenches tightly every single time. 

“Look good, baby,” Nick gasps out. He’s usually better at talking, he thinks, but right now he’s having trouble stringing words together. “Look like you’re – like you’re made for this, Lou – oh my _god_ – ”

Louis continues his rapid pace, like he’s determined to come as quickly as possible, and Nick is quite sure he’s not going to be able to hold off. He’s twenty-eight years old and normally has quite a bit of stamina, but Louis’s tight heat – combined with the fact that he hasn’t been properly laid in two months – has him digging a hand into his own thigh to hold off. 

Louis starts making jerky _ah ah ah ah ah_ sounds and Nick knows he’s close, then, knows that a single jerk of Louis’ cock will probably finish him off. Part of him wants to see if he can get to Louis to come on his cock alone, but he figures he can wait until tomorrow. He releases his own thigh and wraps a hand around Louis’ length, firm, and twists the way Louis likes. 

It’s enough. Louis arches his back obscenely, biting his lip and tossing his head back, making all the muscles in his body stand out, and then he’s spilling onto Nick’s chest. Nick, weirdly, feels a bit like sobbing, like maybe his body can’t possibly hold all of this love.

Louis is always boneless in the aftermath of his orgasm, so Nick has no real trouble flipping him around, but finds it almost impossible to keep the younger boy up on his hands and knees. 

“Hands and knees, babe,” Nick says roughly, pulling Louis up by his chest. Louis nods frantically and tries to steady himself. As soon as he seems to have a good enough balance, Nick slips right back inside, and Louis lets out a loud cry. He’s buried his face in the pillow, and Nick places both of his palms on his arsecheeks. 

“You’re gonna lie there and take it, right, little love?” Nick breathes out, words made choppy by the frantic thrusts of his hips. “Take it just like that. Know you love to get on your hands and knees and get a cock inside you.” 

“Just yours,” Louis sobs, muffled by the pillow. “Just yours, Nick, only yours, shut up.” 

That, combined with the way he tilts his bum up impossibly higher, making the last inch of Nick’s dick slide right in, has Nick coming harder than he thinks he ever has in his life. He doesn’t release his grip on Louis’ arse, stays buried deep while he rides out the waves of his orgasm. 

When he’s finished, he gently pulls out of Louis and guides the younger boy to his chest. Louis doesn’t seem to mind the mess and cuddles right in like a koala, wrapping all of his limbs around Nick sleepily. 

“Nick?” he says quietly into the juncture of Nick’s collarbone. 

“Yeah, babe?” Nick asks, concerned, like he always is after sex. He’s always worried about pushing Louis too hard; the younger boy isn’t as experienced as Nick, and god damn it, Nick’s protective of him. 

“I maybe did miss you a little bit,” Louis says, and he turns his big blue eyes up to meet Nick’s earnestly. 

Nick puts on a practiced frown. “Oh, did you? That’s nice,” he says casually. 

Louis makes an affronted noise and bites Nick’s neck in retaliation. “I was trying to have a moment, Nicholas,” he snaps. 

Nick laughs and gathers him even closer to his chest. “Louis?” he says a couple of moments later. 

“Yeah, babe?” Louis mimics in Nick’s exact tone, and maybe Nick should be concerned that he does such a spot-on impression, but he can’t find it in himself to be anything but fond. 

“I maybe did miss you a little bit too,” Nick says.

“Yeah?” Louis asks with a smirk. 

Nick leans down and bites his nose. “Yeah,” he confirms. “And I maybe love you a little bit. Now go to bed, you absolute wretched monster.” 

“Okay,” Louis says, and promptly collapses on Nick’s chest. 

And if there’s nowhere else in the world that Nick would rather be, well. It is what it is.

**Author's Note:**

> So that's it! I'm thinking about writing sequels to this, because I am a Crazy Person - I have very headcanon-y imagines about what went on between Nick/Louis during Lou's break, the football match, and of course, the Twitter feud. I guess we'll see. Let me know what you thought.


End file.
